


Better Than a Training Exercise

by mnemeaoi



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Smut, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 23:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,040
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9263579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mnemeaoi/pseuds/mnemeaoi
Summary: Knight Sam Holmes doesn't know how to deal with her grief over the death of Nate and the knowledge of who Shaun has become. Paladin Danse, her ever stalwart companion, knows something is wrong and tries to comfort her, in his own awkward way.In other words, sex happens.





	

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a long time since I've written fan fiction. Years, in fact. So please be kind. I really struggle with writing characters with developed personalities that aren't my own creation. Especially a character like Danse, who is incredibly lovable and awkward as hell but also somewhat stern. 
> 
> Also, angst is hard for me. I hope it came across clearly and not awkward. 
> 
> This is also my first posting to this website. This was also not beta-read (I'm pretty diligent about spelling and whatnot). So I'm open to any feedback I can get.

Six months she’d lived in the wasteland, and rad storms still scared her. They were darker, and louder, and the whole atmosphere turned a sickly green that made Sam uneasy. There had once been a time where storms had given her a sense of comfort. Before all this, the sound of thunder had been relaxing. Now she was on edge almost 24/7, and she found little comfort in... well, everything about the world she lived in now.

At least the rain still sounded the same.

Sighing softly, Sam brushed a blonde strand out of her face and started unpacking her bedroll. The metal thunking from the other side of the ramshackle cabin sounded quiet compared to the thunder outside. A hiss of air and a grunt from her Paladin as he stepped out of his power armor, his second skin. She paused, running her fingers softly over the soft cotton tee shirt she had claimed in Fallon’s Department Store. She hated wearing her Brotherhood uniform. It pinched and sometimes just felt too tight. It hadn’t helped that she sometimes caught Danse looking at her with… something in his eyes. Lust? No, she knew he would never allow himself to participate in those kinds of activities with his subordinates. He lived and breathed Brotherhood. 

But yet, she couldn’t deny there was a change of climate between them. Since she had returned from the Institute, he had become more protective of her. Sam, in her grief in all this, had been as careless as ever when they were fighting together. She had charged into a skirmish with super mutants with little ammo, or a machete more than once lately (she’d recently discovered how stress relieving it could be to hack into one of those huge green brutes), and he had been very open to letting her know just how dangerous that was and that she had to follow his orders. 

She sighed again, and laid her bedroll flat on the cabin floor, placing a bundle of other clothing she had to form a makeshift pillow at the opening of the bag. Her head was swimming in thoughts of Shaun. She mourned for his childhood, the one she hadn’t been able to give him. He’d become a monster, and she knew that she was a part of what the Brotherhood of Steel planned for Shaun and the Institute, but she still couldn’t admit it to herself, and what she would have to do.

“Holmes?” Paladin Danse’s deep, gruff voice broke her out of her silent grief. “You should really eat something. Here.” He held a box of potato crisps toward her. “It’s been a long day.” She paused for a moment, staring at the wall in front of her. Then with a huff, she took it from him and made herself comfortable on top of her bed. Sam popped the lid of the cannister open and dumped a few of the stale crisps into her hand before nibbling on a few. She watched Danse as he moved back to his own bedroll. His face looked darker than usual. Must be from a lack of sleep, she supposed. Danse was a bit of an insomniac, but from what she could tell, it never seemed to affect him much while out in the field. Tonight, though, she could see fatigue written all over his face.

He settled on top of his bedroll and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles, before opening a box of Fancy Lad snack cakes. His large, strong hands opened one of the pouches in one pull. They sat in silence, just the sound of the rad storm outside, and the crunch of crisps as Sam finished off her can. She closed her eyes, letting her head fall back against the wall. Her own fatigue hit her right in the face, and she was slipping just over the edge into sleep when Danse spoke.

“If you need to talk, Knight, you know you can talk to me.” She opened one eye and looked at him carefully. He eyed her in the same manner, his expression soft. He looked concerned. 

“I'm fine, Paladin.” She shifted her weight uncomfortably. Danse was an intelligent man. He was brilliant in the field and he had taught her everything she knew about gun and armor mods. But she knew he struggled when it came to talking about personal matters. Especially emotional distress. She didn't want to burden him with her anxieties. 

“Do you think I haven't noticed something is wrong? You've changed, Holmes. You've become reckless and borderline insubordinate. It's my job as your sponsor to make sure you're OK, not just physically but also emotionally.” Danse sighed and ran a large hand over his face a few times. A loud rumble of thunder sent a shiver down Sam's back. “Please. Just tell me. What can I do to help get you out of this… funk?”

Sam bit down on her lip and squeezed her eyes closed. Her gut was telling her to ask him something she knew he would object to. In fact, when they had last broken down emotional barriers, it was Danse confiding in her about his abilities as a commanding officer and about what happened with Scribe Haylen. She had attempted to flirt with him to lighten the mood, put him at ease. She wanted to see if he still felt open to what she had said. “Danse, do you remember when I asked if you'd hold me if I needed you to?”

He stared at her for a moment, eyebrows raised. It seemed to take forever for him to respond. Sam could feel her heart thumping against her ribs. But at least it was good to feel something other than overwhelming sadness. “I… do.” He said it so quietly she almost didn't hear it. “I suppose this is one of the circumstances that would… be appropriate. If it'll help.” 

Sam stood up slowly, feeling a blush creep over her face. She took the few strides to where he sat and settled beside him. The warmth from his body was comforting by itself. But as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, she felt herself melt. She couldn't remember the last time she had been touched in such a way. Not even the day they went into the vault. There hadn't been time for that. Nate had never been very affectionate. It was something that always bothered her, something she found herself craving from him. Intimacy for Nate was a quick fuck, or a small kiss as he left for work. That was it. Never had she been able to lean on his shoulder, feel his arms around her. 

And despite her Paladin’s muscle mass, he was soft. She closed her eyes, breathing in his musky, manly scent. “Thank you, Danse,” She whispered. 

He traced his fingers lightly along her arm. She was glad he couldn’t feel the goosebumps forming underneath the thick fabric of her jumpsuit. A feeling of calm she hadn’t felt in a long time washed over. They sat there in the quiet for a long time. She listened to his steady breathing and after a moment, she realized she didn’t want to be anywhere else but right next to Danse. 

He continued to rub her arm for a while, almost lulling her to sleep, when he cleared his throat to speak, breaking the comfortable silence between them. “I can’t begin to understand what you’re going through, Holmes. But I want you to know that I think you’re one of a kind. As a soldier and a person.”

Sam sat up and looked at him, eyebrow raised. There was a faint glimmer in his eye, something that was unfamiliar to her. She didn’t know what to say. Instead, before she could think about what she was doing, she kissed him. Sam felt him stiffen slightly, but he kissed her back, much to her surprise. She had expected him to push her away and reprimand her, remind her that fraternization between Brotherhood soldiers was frowned upon, especially between an officer and his subordinate. But she was thankful, and happy. The kiss was everything she had hoped it would be. Soft, and warm, and reciprocated. They remained like that for a few moments before she felt his hand on her waist, pulling her closer. Sam broke away from the kiss, eyeing him nervously. He kept his eyes closed, pressing his forehead against hers. “Well,” he sighed. “I wasn’t expecting that reaction, but I have to admit, I’m not unhappy with it.” 

Sam’s gut lurched, and her head started to swim. The contact had ignited emotions and sensations she hadn’t felt in a long time, and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to ignore it. “I’m s-sorry. I shouldn’t have -” She was cut off by another kiss, this one a little harder than the first. Danse wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her almost into his lap. 

“I’ve wanted to do this since you first walked into the police station,” he said as he moved his lips to her jawline. “Don’t be sorry.” Sam’s heart was pounding against her ribcage, threatening to burst through her chest. She would be a liar if she said she hadn’t thought about him like that. He was one of the most attractive men she’d ever met, and his authoritative personality sometimes turned her on, just a little. And there she was, wrapped in his arms as he kissed her face, the smell of him intoxicating her. She couldn’t help herself anymore, and shifted so that she straddle his lap, knees on either side of his hips. Danse’s hold around her tightened as he found her mouth again. She kissed him earnestly, meeting his tongue with hers as she tangled her fingers into his dark hair. His hands were all over her, gripping her hips and rubbing up and down her back. 

There was heat and friction forming between the two of them, and even despite their best judgements, they didn’t stop. Sam fumbled with the collar of his jumpsuit, pulling the zip down just a tad and ushering a quiet moan from the man beneath her. They kissed for a long time, breathing each other in. She could feel his hands roam up towards her chest, but stopping short just underneath the swell. Sam took one of his hands and brought it to her breast, holding it in place for a moment before breaking away from his kiss and gazing at him. He held her gaze, his face hot and expression unsure. “Danse,” she sighed. She opened her mouth to keep speaking, but he cut her off.

“My first name is Elias.”

“Elias?” She repeated. Still with his hand held in place, she sat back slightly. “Elias Danse. It suits you.” Sam smiled meekly. “Mine is Samantha.”

Danse returned her smile, and took a deep breath. “I like it.”

Anything else she had wanted to say was swallowed by his mouth as he resumed kissing her. Sam moved her hands back to the zip of his jumpsuit and pulled it all the way down, revealing a toned torso and light dusting of hair. His skin felt hot as she slipped a hand underneath the fabric, brushing her fingers along his chest and collarbone. Danse followed her lead, pulling the zip down and pulling the suit down her arms so it pooled at her hips. Sam felt like she would melt at his touch, the feel of his hands on her skin almost too much for her to handle. “Elias,” she moaned quietly. He reached behind her and fumbled a few tries at her bra clasp before finally unhooking it and pulling the garment off. His hands were free to roam, cupping both breasts and rubbing his thumbs of her peaked nipples. Sam ground herself down onto his lap, which forced a breathy moan from Danse. He moved his mouth to her neck, kissing and biting down gently. Sam took the opportunity to pull the top half of his jumpsuit down his arms, letting her hands roam over his shoulders and arms. 

After a moment, Danse shifted and pushed her onto his bedroll with a grunt. He held himself above her with his arms on either side of her head, his height and weight almost burying her beneath him. “You should know that fraternization is frowned upon by the Brotherhood,” he said with a smile. “I am your commanding officer. We could both be punished for this.” 

“I know that,” Sam said with a smirk. She brushed her hand along his face and he pressed his cheek into it, eyes closed.

“But I won’t tell if you don’t,” he whispered. 

Sam lifted her head to plant a kiss on his nose. “My lips are sealed.”

“Good. At least I can say I warned you,” he said, an ornery glint in his eyes. He sat up on his knees and started to yank the rest of her jumpsuit over her hips and down her legs. As he leaned back down to kiss her neck, she felt his hand brush the inside of her thigh, inching towards the wet heat forming in her underpants. She gasped as he hooked a finger around the seam, teasing her. “God, I’ve thought about this more than I’d like to admit,” he growled, dragging his finger through the coarse hair between her legs. 

Sam placed her hands on the back of his head, tangling her fingers in his hair and scratching gently at his scalp. “Me too. Once or twice.”

Without warning, Danse pushed a finger inside her, forcing out a moan from both of them. He kissed her hard, keeping his hand still for a moment before slipping his finger out and then pushing two back inside. He started to fuck her with his hand, rubbing his thumb on the sensitive nub at the same time. Sam began to writhe and squirm, feeling the familiar fire build up in her core. Danse kissed her everywhere his mouth could reach from that angle, and she let her hands roam, gripping the arm he used to support his weight and rubbing her own breasts. She breathed in his scent, a smell she wanted to commit to memory. “Danse,” she sighed, throwing her head back. She was close. So close. He kept his pace, curling his fingers to reach the right spot inside her and rubbing his thumb vigorously. Danse attacked her neck with more kisses, biting down harder, but still gentle. With another few thrusts of his hand, Sam cried out, letting the release take her and wash over her body. She tried to catch her breath as Danse sat up onto his knees, pulling his hand out tantalizingly slow. Sam’s vision filled with stars and her body felt hot. “God,” she just barely managed. 

She closed her eyes, thoroughly enjoying the afterglow of her orgasm. She could feel him moving around between her legs and she looked up at him. He had undressed himself completely now, and God, Danse was a sight to behold. Years of Brotherhood training had been good to him. After a moment, he caught her staring and blushed. She smiled at him, biting down on her lip. He leaned down to kiss her, settling in between her legs again. He hooked his fingers around the waistband of her underpants and started to pull them down her hips. Sam lifted her ass just enough for him to get them down, and he pulled them all the way off. Danse pulled her hips closer, pressing the tip of his cock against her entrance. She stole a glance at it, suddenly nervous at how big it was. “Tell me if I hurt you,” he said, planting a kiss on her lips. Sam nodded, lying back and reaching up to tangle her hands in his hair. He pushed in slightly, forcing a moan out of her. He pulled out slowly before pushing back in, further this time until he was fully seated in her. She was amazed at how well he fit, how thoroughly full she felt. 

“Danse,” she moaned, burying her face in his neck. “Fuck me.” 

Danse sighed softly, thrusting gently at first. Sam squeezed her eyes shut and held him close to her. “God,” he moaned. “Sam…” 

“Fuck me, Danse,” she repeated. “Please.” Danse kissed the hollow of her neck and sat up on his knees. He hooked one arm underneath her knee and threw her other leg over his shoulder before finally giving her what she wanted. He fucked her hard, setting a relentless pace that she was sure would make her sore tomorrow. She moved her hips with him, helping him to find that sweet spot that made her cry out. “Oh, God,” she moaned. The slapping of skin was all she could hear, next to her heart pounding in her ears. He kept at it, thrusting into her at such a pace that she wasn’t sure he would last much longer. His hands found her breasts, squeezing and plucking at her nipples. 

Danse leaned down after a few minutes, kissing her sloppily. He grunted, a low rumble from his throat that sent tingles through her body. Sam gently scratched at his scalp, his hair now slightly sweaty. With another moan between them, Sam felt another wave of an orgasm wash over her. Danse sat up suddenly, thrusting hard a few more times before pulling out suddenly and spilling his own orgasm onto the bedroll. “Jesus,” he moaned, collapsing beside her. 

“I agree,” she breathed, still trying to catch her breath. Sam rolled onto her side and draped an arm over his waist. Danse reached over their heads into his pack and pulled out a ratty towel, wiped himself off and offered it to her. She took it, gave it a quick swipe between her legs, and threw it across the room. Danse settled beside her, lying on his back. 

“That was better than a training exercise,” he said, turning his head to look at her. 

Sam smiled, closing her eyes and enjoying the afterglow. “You’re kind of a dork. Did you know that?”


End file.
